Copyright APR 06, 2011
Word count: 272
In the Once of upon a time,
I had the audacity to think of you.
Not the core of you, not the real of you,
But a you fabricated and tweaked into an ill-fitting mold of you,
With all of your awful pieces left out and forgotten.
I thought thought I had made you “Perfect”,
But those bits I discarded,
That I never wished to see –
They never went away.
The sad truth is that you were as far from “Perfect”
as I was far from you.
And in the Now of time . . .
I have the ability to think of Him, of us, of all of it.
I am molded in the warmth of his arms, polished in his smile.
I am now what I had never been in your time…
Happy. Loved. Safe.
How odd...
How horribly wrong it is
for thoughts of you to howl at the light of my window,
for your face to try to echo above our laughter.
For if it is the thought that counts,
Then every thought of you counts against me.
And though I once invited you into my heart
And foolishly hoped you’d be my “Perfect”,
I do know better now.
And you were never what you could have been.
And I am not what I once was.
And I rescind the invitation.
And while the light from my window is warm and welcome,
And my eyes are bright,
Know that in the Now of Time,
the Past of Hinted Shadows,
and the Future-Come-What-May,
I shall never reach out for you again.
Because my Love is here.
In my arms.